A Darker Path
by Illuviar
Summary: In the Chamber of Secrets, Harry faces a basilisk which is a bit bigger, with more potent venom. Fawkes tears only slow down the poison. Potter is victorious but his success costs him his life. Then Harry awakens at King's Cross station where he is offered a choice - to pass on and meet his parents or go back after absorbing two of Voldemort's Soul Fragments... Dark Wizard Harry.
1. Chapter 1

**A D****arker ****P****ath**

**Prologue: The Death of a Gryffindor**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling and the various publishers. This story is written with no commercial aims. I do not make any money from it.**

**$Parseltongue$**

**=ADP=**

* * *

**28 May 1993**

**The ****Chamber of Secrets**

**Hogwarts**

"Is this how it ends?" Harry Potter whispered. His addled mind barely registered the screams of Tom Riddle's memory.

Harry was on his knees in front of the cooling corpse of a 100-foot basilisk. The great serpent was dead, slayed by his hand. The hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor gleamed from the beast's mouth. It was the only visible part of the weapon that had pierced the brain of Salazar Slytherin's pet. Even the gem encrusted hilt was getting darker – it was slowly being covered by thick, black venom, which was leaking from a ruptures poison sack.

Next to the carckas, Potter was gripping a small diary in his left hand as if his life depended on it. Black ink was bubbling from a hole in the booklet. Harry had used his last vestige of strength to pry the basilisk fang which had lodged in his left arm when he killed the serpent and then slammed it through the diary.

He looked numbly at the gaping hole in his left arm. With every beat, Harry's heart was pumping out his lifeblood. But the crimson liquid looked wrong. It was darker, almost black. Just as the puffy veins in his arm. The hand with which he was gripping the diary was getting gray and slowly bloating. He could see his fingers convulsing but could no longer feel them. He blinked couple of times. His sight drifted over the shadow covered chamber until his eyes reached the prone form of Ginny Weasley. She looked peaceful, as if asleep. If he was not mistaken there was color returning to her cheeks. Harry smiled sadly. At least she was safe. Right?

Harry looked at the transparent form of Riddle which was still screaming. It was distorted and colorless. The apparition suddenly froze and then disappeared with the sound of shattering crystal. A cloud of black smoke erupted from the diary and surrounded Harry like a tornado. Perhaps the second year student should have been scared but he felt nothing but resignation. He could feel the poison coursing through his veins. Contrary to what one might expect it was not particularly painful. He had endured much worse under the tender ministrations of his relatives. It hurt for only few seconds as the venom passed through his bloodstream and after that the magical poison had already numbed his nerves as they were dying under its effects.

Harry knew that it wouldn't be long now. He could feel it – like a cold fire spreading through his bloodstream and causing his heart to seize. Thanks to Fawkes and his Phoenix's tears, which had slowed it, Harry survived long enough to deal with the diary and save Ron's little sister. A small smile stretched his dry lips. At least he did something right.

"Fawkes. Take care of Ginny. Please..." Harry's voice was barely a whisper. It was a miracle that he was able to speak at all with the venom already doing its wicked work within his lungs and throat.

The crimson bird gave a mournful thrill and went to take the Sorting Hat. Then he landed on Ginny's shoulder. The Phoenix looked sadly at the dying boy and gave him a respectful nod with his avian head bobbing in a near bow. Then the magical bird and the girl disappeared within a blinding flash of fire.

Harry's lips moved in a silent "Thank you" but no sound came out. It was so dark and cold when the spirals of black smoke which were circling him slammed in his body. Harry's body convulsed and he fell backwards, before laying still.

**=ADP=**

* * *

**Time Unknown; **

**Place Unknown;**

One moment he was dying within the Chamber of Secrets and then he was here. King's Cross station. The red Hogwarts Express was waiting for its passengers but the place was empty. There were no parents or guardians saying goodbye to their kids, neither students ready to start the next school year.

"Potter! Whatss did you do thisss time?!" a familiar voice hissed in a hybrid between English and parseltongue, which Harry knew only from forgotten nightmares, startled the confused kid. He turned around and found out that the station was not as deserted as it first appeared.

Two people were standing behind him. One was the young Tom Riddle, the same who had possessed Ginny. But the older teenager was fully corporeal this time. Next to him was an older man who looked to be in his forties. The pair might as well been father and son. The resemblance was that close. The only real difference was that the older man's eyes were shining with crimson light.

"Voldemort!" Harry spat. 'Just great! That's my luck. I can't even die peacefully!'

_"Curious, isn't it?" __A_ heartwarming woman's voice echoed around the three males.

Slivers of soft light and shadows danced around them. They looked around, searching for the source of the voice, their animosity forgotten for a moment.

_"It was not supposed to happen like this. This is not the time for either of you to pass to the other side. Harry, Tom."_The voice became sad. It caused a pang of forgotten feeling to pass through the stone cold heart of the self-styled Dark Lord.

Harry and Voldemort could feel something approaching. It was magic. Pure. Light and Dark. Yin and Yang. It swirled around them. Tantalizing. Seductive. It was both the gentle cares of a loving mother, the fiery passion of a lover's kiss.

_"Tom Riddle." _The Dark Lord, both of his incarnations, stood rooted in place. They could sense a pair of eyes staring straight into their soul.

_"The Darkest of path__s__, you've been walking, child of Slytherin."_

The all seeing sight turned towards Harry.

_"__Harry Potter. Son of Gryffins. Plunged into darkness. Neither can live while the other survives. __Victims of__ Prophecy. Descendants of Godric and Salazar bound by destiny."_

The older Riddle nodded.

"Is that the crux of the prophecy?"

Harry looked around in confusion. 'What is that supposed to mean?!' he wondered.

_"And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal..." _the woman interjected.

"Merlin's balls!" both Riddle's cursed.

Harry's eyes widened and his right hand shot to the lightning-bolt shaped scar on his temple.

_"Yet, you two were never equal. A paradox. For this was one of the few True Prophecies to be ever __uttered by a mortal soul__." __The woman paused.__"While I am Magic, with __Light __and__ Dar__k, being a simply __Man-made distinction that __is__of no matter in the great scheme of things, Fate requires balance."_

"There is no good or evil. Just those too scared to pursue power!" Riddle hissed.

_"Tom, you are such blind, foolish child."_

A lithe, brilliant figure of a woman materialized between Harry and the pair of Riddles. Her skin was made of blazing magic, which was painful to look upon. She was dressed in a gown made by slithering shadows, which were clinging upon her soft curves. She smiled at Harry, dazzling him. Somehow he knew that he could perceive only a tiny fraction of the woman standing before him. She was power. She was Magic itself.

_"Harry, you have a choice to make."_A hand covered by a glove of dark velvet waved at the waiting train. _"__You could board the Express and go to the other side. And yes, your real family will be waiting for you there."_

Harry's eyes became huge. His Mum and Dad were waiting for him?! He shuddered with excitement. His face glowed with a goofy smile. No more Dursey's! No more dark, hateful whispers! He was ready to shout with joy when his gaze met the cruel, red eyes of Voldemort. Harry's high spirits were dashed on the spot. In an act of maturity that no one would have expected of a twelve year old, he pointed at the Dark Lord and looked at the woman.

"What about him? What will happen to him if I die?"

_"T__he Prophecy will be resolved, in a way. Tom will come back to life.__ Britain will fall to Voldemort. __For a time.__"_

"What about my friends?"

_"Some will flee. Some will fight. Child, no matter what you choose here, their actions and destiny are their own. Just as your fate now lies in your hands. Harry, you won't be responsible for what happens if you choose to pass on. __Fate will have her due.__"_

Potter huffed in frustration. He might not be held accountable for what happens to his friends by someone else. But Harry already knew. He would blame himself for what would happen regardless. He looked at the woman who was smiling at him.

"You already know what I will choose."

_"Do I?" _Her musical laughter was a balsam for his soul. _"At this moment, there are two strings of possible futures. In one you board the train. In the other you go back. They are both valid. They both happen. In a sense you've already made both choices."_

The younger Riddle was first to understand what the woman meant.

"So every choice happens somewhere. There is timeline, or is it reality? Universe? For every possible outcome." He grinned. "Countess places where I've already won!" he sneered.

"And as many where you lost!" Harry shouted.

_"__Not exactly. Merely a timeline for every choice that has ever been made, for every one that will be made.__"_The woman giggled. It was a soft, gentle sound that put smiles on the face of the three males. _"What do you choose, son of James and Lilian Potter?"_

Harry gathered his courage and gave the woman a look full of determination.

"Send me back! I can't leave my friends to face him alone! I can't allow him to hurt anyone else!"

Those words made Voldemort to laugh cruelly.

"Foolish child! Even if you win in the end it will be upon a mountain of corpses! Do you think that you can protect your friends?! You made it thus far on pure luck and my arrogance! How long until this is not enough?! You are a babe who knows nothing of our world!" the Dark Lord sneered the same way his younger self had.

"I will stop you! I will protect my friends!" Harry shouted.

What happened next surprised both Riddle and Potter.

_"Harry, he is right you know. So far you've been incredibly, improbably lucky, __as befits one marked by Fate.__However t__his is not something on which you could count in the future. __She is a fickle thing, my sister. Yet y__ou made your choice. You are going back."_She beamed at Harry who was crestfallen at hearing her words. _"__But you and Tom shall be equal. As it was meant to be. __Do remember, Harry. Most magic is guided by intent. There could be good 'Dark' as well as evil 'Light' wizards and witches. As well as anything in between..."_

She pointed her left arm at the two fragments of Voldemort's soul and they dissolved in moths of dark light. The woman waved them in Harry's direction and they raced towards him. Before the boy could try to protest he was engulfed in a rain of black ash which passed through his clothes as if they were not even there and was absorbed by his skin.

_"Experience. Knowledge. __And as you grow up, power too. When the time comes, you will be equals, Harry." _For a long moment the woman gazed at the young boy in front of her. _"I am sorry for the dark path you will be forced to walk from now on. It is __a fine__ choice you made, __it will be one fraught with both wonders and frightful peril.__ Fare thee well, Harry." __She paused, her powers flaring. ___"Harry ___James Potter, Heir of Gryffindor. __Rest in peace.__"_

Harry screamed. His very soul was wrenched into countless shards. Agony beyond words gripped his very being and did not let go. In a realm where the conscious mind could not operate, the one who was known as Harry Potter died. His soul was wretched apart and its pieces were coated by a black ash. As he screamed hoarse, the shards absorbed the two segments of Voldemort's soul which was ground to dust. They realigned themselves and slowly flew into each other like pieces of a puzzle which was painstakingly put together. A soul that was wounded twelve years ago was destroyed and rebuilt. The one who was supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived, the savior of legend, was finally put to eternal rest.

It is ironic, really. Without the actions of a frightened, sometimes meddlesome old man, Harry Potter might have become the boy who the Wizarding World expected. Yet, no here and now. Not in this timeline. It was simply something that was not meant to be. Because that knight in shining armor that everyone awaited with a baited breath was dead before his legend was truly born. From the moment Harry was left on the doorsteps of the Dursey's, any chance of him becoming the Savior, the Icon every witch and wizard in Britain expected, was gone. Now, after defeating a basilisk and a living memory of a Dark Lord, the courageous Gryffindor was no more.

_"Welcome Harry James Potter, Heir of Slytherin." __The woman smiled softly, like a mother watching her newborn child._

His soul was whole once more. For the first time since Tom Riddle sent the Killing Curse at his head when he was fifteen months old. Harry opened his eyes to reveal two snakelike, emerald irises surrounded by thin crimson line. He was floating several paces above the ground, suspended by invisible force.

"Even at seventeen he was an utter bastard," Harry muttered, in a tone of voice that shouldn't belong to a twelve years old boy.

Which it didn't. He had integrated most of the memories of seventeen years old Tom in his mind, up to the moment Riddle made his first Horcrux. Harry instinctively knew that in the coming months and years the memories of the older Riddle, those that were contained in the soul-shard that has been under his scar, would be slowly coming to him, integrating with his own.

That was a good thing, because it was a small miracle that absorbing the memories from the diary in one go did not shatter his mind… or alter Harry beyond recognition.

He looked at the form of the woman with new eyes and smiled. No. It was not luck or chance.

"Circe. Thank you, my Lady," Harry whispered with a hoarse voice.

_"You are welcome child. It is time to return to the realm of the __living. D__estiny awaits you, __Heir__ of Slytherin."_

* * *

**=ADP=**

**Chapter 1: New Dawn**

**28 May 1993; **

**The ****Chamber of Secrets**

**Hogwarts**

A loud groan shattered the silence which had descended upon the one-time lair of Salazar Slytherin. A deadly pale boy opened his eyes and blinked owlishly. 'What a strange dream.' That was his first coherent thought. The sense of a cold, stone floor and the features of the strange ceiling were the first clues that he was not suffering from a too realistic for comfort nightmare. No, Sir. Harry was never that lucky. He carefully turned his head to the right and gave a quiet moan as his stiff muscles protested his action. Sure enough, he was laying just a meter away from the corpse of humongous serpent.

"What in Morgana's name possessed me go come here without preparation?!" Harry exclaimed. And immediately regretted it as his throat, which was raw from screaming he did not remember, was wracked by stabbing pain.

"Accio Harry Potter'sss wand!" he spoke, his voice warping between human speech and sibilant hiss.

The eleven inches long piece of painstakingly crafted wood flew from where it had fallen during the fight with Riddle's shade. Harry caught it with his right hand and frowned. He could feel the familiar tug in his magic as his fingers closed around the hilt. However, it felt somewhat off. The wand itself was the same, undamaged from the short, vicious battle. Yet Harry was not.

He was no longer that boy, full with hope and wonder, who was led into Diagon Alley by Hagrid. That clueless child who was the perfect match for this wand… was no more. He died in this dark, damp chamber… and he was reborn as someone somewhat wiser. And much harder.

Harry flicked the wand and a shower of sparks flew from its tip. It was much smaller and dimmer from what Harry was able to do at Olivander's. At least it worked. He grimaced and waved the wand over his body.

$Cleanse. Close. Mend. Pain begone!$ Harry hissed in the tongue of the serpents.

A stream of soft, emerald light flowed from the tip of his wand and was absorbed by his brutalized body. Harry moaned in relief as he felt his wound mending. The trace amounts of venom within his bloodstream raced through his veins and were expelled through the gaping hole in his left arm. He conjured a clean bandage and used it on the wound caused by the basilisk fang.

Even better, with every spell he cast, his wand responded better, more eager. As if it was remembering its master.

"Well, that's better. At least Tommy boy's memories are useful." Harry muttered. He carefully stood up on shaky legs. 'Uh. A Pepper-Up potion would be useful right now.'

As far as he remembered, young Tom had pillaged everything useful from the chamber. Well, at least Harry had the corpse of a freshly slain basilisk which technically was in his right to claim as the one who killed the damn snake. He would have to visit the goblins and arrange its harvesting, preferably without anyone else getting a wind of it. After all, it wasn't a stretch of the immagination that if the ministry got a whiff of the whole affair, they would try to get the lion's share of the galleons. Then there was Albus, who might try claiming the money for Hogwarts and his Order. Not to mention Snape.

After all this was a mother-load of rare potion ingredients. The money he would make selling what would be left after harvesting what he needed. The bloody thing was 100 feet long after all so there would be plenty left. By his conservative assessment that beastie should net him a quarter of million galleons. After he spent a lot of his potential profit greasing various wheels to make it stick.

A thought that wouldn't have occurred to Harry just half an hour ago.

"First things first." Harry cast a few preservation charms. Thanks to the magic that was infused in the serpent's body, it wouldn't really start decomposing for a long time but he was not about to risk such a treasure trove. 'When did I become such a greedy git? Next thing I know I'll be practicing my evil laughter…'

Being a newly minted paranoid bastard, Harry made his way to the chamber where the basilisk had been hibernating ever since Salazar placed it as a guardian of Hogwarts. Conveniently, the main ward stone for the Chamber of Secrets was situated there. Good old Sal could not have someone mucking up with the wards of his sanctum without first having a heart to heart chat with his pet. Thanks to the small part of Riddle's magic that had melded with his own when he absorbed the two soul fragments of Voldemort, Harry was able to interact safely with the wards. He keyed himself to them and canceled all others. Then he spent the next few minutes placing a half-assed anti-phoenix ward on which young Tom had been working. As he worked on it, Harry was instinctively making changes, improvements.

"Yes, a bit more power to this rune array... " Harry muttered, while he was tracing ancient symbols with his wand, burning them into the surface of the stone. Potter could see in his mind the arithmatic calculations he had made when working on the theoretic aspect of the ward. Of course, translating them into a real, working barrier against phoenix flaming was much harder process.

At the time it never crossed his mind that he, Harry, had never studied arithmancy, much less created the ward scheme he was implementing.

Instead, he was working on auto-pilot, led by a promt from the still dormant memories of what he was now calling "The Elder Riddle". It took him about a half hour to have something working in place. 'Can't have the headmaster coming in and pillaging the just spoils of battle, can we?'

"Well, that's done. Time to have a chat with the old man. But first…"

He went to the corpse of the great beast and conjured a vial made of pure silver, then enchanted it to be unbreakable. That done, Harry used a levitation spell to pry the Sword of Gryffindor from the brain of the serpent and then with a swirl of his wand sent some of the venom coating it to rest in the vial. He closed it, sealed it with a spell and then shrunk the container, placing it into one of his pockets. Next he created scabbard and sheathed the sword within it. A belt followed and the weapon was placed over his left shoulder. Lastly, Harry, made a pouch in which he placed the diary, careful not to touch the black muck covering most of it.

He headed for the exit and started casting various cleaning spells over his tattered robes. By the time he had reached the rock slide separating him from where he had left Ron and Lockhart, Harry was feeling somewhat cleaner. Now he only needed couple of hours under a hot shower.

He sniffed at his robes. Add at least two more, soaking into a baththub.

Harry looked at the blocked passage and glared at it critically. He could clear up the rocks and transfigure an arch to keep the ceiling from caving in but that would use too much of his remaining power. During his earlier ordeals and after his latest actions too much of his magic has been used up and Harry would not risk becoming even weaker right now. It was good thing that there were a lot of secret passages leading to various parts of the castle from the chamber. He took few steps back and turned to the right. He tapped with his wand one of the stones making up the wall, which was no different from the rest. The wall slid up and revealed a small, dark tunnel which stank of dead-water. With a quiet lumos to light up his path, Harry made his way out.

**=ADP=**

* * *

**28 May 1993**

**Hospital Wing**

**Hogwarts**

Madam Pomfrey was fusing over her newest patient – Ginny Weasley who was delivered into her care by Fawkes. The Headmaster, Minerva as well as Mr and Mrs Weasley had arrived a few minutes ago but were staying away and leaving her to work on the poor girl in peace. It took her only couple of glares and few harsh words to stop them from interfering in her job. The girl was showing signs of long possession and extreme magical and physical exhaustion as well as residues of some very dark magic. Pomfrey had already dosed Ginny with as much potions as she dared give the child at one go and was busy removing the traces of dark magic which were dramatically slowing the recovery process. The girl was literally soaked in some of the foulest feeling magic Pomfrey had sensed in her long career.

Considering that she has been a medi-witch during the war, that was saying something.

Fawkes was sitting on Dumbledore's right shoulder and was quietly singing a calming tune. This was the main reason the Weasley's were not freaking out while the nurse was tending their only daughter. That was the sight Harry saw when he made his way into the hospital. The Phoenix thrilled cheerfully and flew to land on the boy's left shoulder. That got the attention of the adults who turned to the newcomer. The headmaster examined the state in which Potter was and raised an eyebrow.

"Harry, my boy, I believe that an explanation is in order but first we should look at your arm."

Said boy looked at his bandaged appendage critically and nodded.

"Yeah, it's a bit punctured."

"Mr Potter! What did you do with yourself this time?!" Harry's head of house exclaimed. After Minerva saw the state in which he was she was taking great, steadying grasps and clutched her chest. 'This boy just could not stay of trouble! Just like his father!'

"What I had to do to save Ginny," He deadpanned. "But first, have Ron and Lockhart came out of the Chamber?"

The headmaster pointed at a nearby bed.

"Harry, sit and let me check your hand. Meanwhile you can tell us about young Ronnald."

Harry did as instructed and Dumbledore waved his wand, removing the bandages over the wound. Mrs Weasley and professor McGonagall gasped when they saw the ragged hole.

"I am under pain-numbing charm. It's useful after Quidditch practice," Harry commented over his lack of pain.

Albus frowned but let the explanation slide for now.

"You can use a Blood-Replenishing and Pepper-Up potions," The headmaster muttered and summoned the medicine from a nearby cupboard.

After Harry drank the foul tasting beverages he started speaking while Dumbledore was using variety of spells to check up his condition.

"Last I saw them, Ron and Lockhart were still in the Chamber of Secrets. That poor excuse for professor tried to obliviate us and caused a cave in that separated me from Ron. The entrance is in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and as far as I know it is still open. I think that one of Ron's legs was injured when that idiot that masqueraded as DADA teacher blew up the ceiling."

The listening adults were appalled. Before one of them could explode at the boy, the headmaster spoke.

"Minerva, Molly, you should go check on young Roland. Fawkes will get you there the fastest I should think." Moments later the two women disappeared within a flash of phoenix fire.

"Now, my boy, tell us what exactly happened," Albus asked with a hint of concern in his voice. The way Harry was talking and acting was out of character. Suddenly the kid's bearing was like of someone more mature. The sure way he was speaking and dismissing his serious wound was unlike the shy boy he knew.

Harry started talking. It took him nearly quarter hour to tell most of the things that happened. Naturally he left the part about absorbing parts of Riddle's soul out of his tale. Meanwhile, Minerva and Molly came back, with the deputy headmistress levitating Ron, whose left leg was broken. They had Lockhart in tow too. The DADA professor had finally managed to cast a successful spell: too bad for him that it backfired.

The witches came back in time to hear about the battle with the Slytherin's monster and the memory of Riddle.

"You saved her! You saved my daughter!" Molly exclaimed and tried to hug Harry to death. Fortunately, he was saved by the headmaster who was still providing first aid. The old wizard carefully stepped in the way of the grateful woman and prevented her from squeezing the life out of the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry gave a thankful nod to the Headmaster, whose eyes were twinkling with amusement.

After Molly calmed down, Potter continued with his tale. When he was over, Dumbledore was looking at him with deep frown. By then, Ron's leg was mended and he was dosed with Skele-Gro and Lockhart was napping under the influence of dreamless Sleep potion. Madam Pomfrey was patching up Harry's arm and the rest of the adults were looking at him strangely. It probably had something to do with the way he had told them what happened. The way he spoke was closer to an Auror giving an after action report than a twelve years old boy talking about a life or death struggle in which he had participated in just an hour ago.

Not to mention that there were a few important questions that needed answers beyond Harry's current behavior.

"If you are wondering..." Harry gave the leather bag that he was wearing to the Headmaster. "...how Voldie entrapped Ginny, it was his diary."

While Mr Weasley was trying to wrap his head around Harry's latest statement, Dumbledore wasted no time and after casting few detection spells on the bag, he retrieved the diary. He looked at it for a long moment and muttered quietly:

"He was one of the most brilliant students Hogwarts has ever seen..." He turned his heads to the Weasley's who were looking at him with confusion.

"Tom Riddle. I taught him myself. That was fifty years ago. After school he traveled far and wide. I lost track of him. Later, when he resurfaced, Tom was known as Lord Voldemort. Hardly anyone recognized the Dark Lord as the clever, handsome boy who used to be a Head boy here." He shook his head. "Molly, Arthur, I believe it will be for the best if you stay here with Ginevra and Ronald. Your daughter should be awakening soon. I need to secure the diary and this sword, which seems to be fond of Mr Potter."

However Madam Pomfrey had other plans.

"Albus, Mr Potter needs rest! He is exhausted and wounded!"

"I'll deposit him back here shortly, Poppy." Albus gave his best grandfatherly smile to the nurse, who had cleaned up and bandaged Harry's arm. Before Pomfrey could protest further, Fawkes had followed the wishes of his human and Potter and Dumbledore found themselves in the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore pointed at one of the chairs in front of his desk and made his way around to his own.

"Sit down, Harry."

Harry sat and Fawkes landed in his lap. The phoenix softly crooned at him and shamelessly demanded petting. Harry grinned at the fire bird and gently stroked his feathers.

The fact that Fawkes still liked the boy, gave a sense of profound relief to the headmaster. Albus complemented the loyalty and courage Harry must have shown in the chamber in order to call his familiar and the sword of Gryffindor.

Potter answered with curt nod. He glanced at the headmaster without meeting his eyes.

"Voldemort was interested in me. He said that I am like him..." Harry trailed off. Having the memories of young Tom Riddle, he could see the similarities in how both of them were raised. Lack of love and abuse though luckily enough where Harry was concerned the physical abuse was almost non-existent. Not that the routine starvation and emotional pain that his "relatives" reveled in causing him were something to be overlooked…

Dumbledore looked thoughtful.

"Did he now? And what do you think, my boy?"

Under different circumstances that might have been an innocent question. But now, Harry was closer to Voldemort than anyone else. Hell, he had merged with pieces of the soul of that madman!

"I don't think so professor. For one I am Gryffindor." Though now, that he was changed, he was great shoe-in for Slytherin. Suddenly the Lions were not looking so much brave and courageous. More like arrogant and thoughtless. At least a lot of them. Here, take this shiny, pointy sword and go charge that basilisk. Well, he did that. Without taking the sword first or making any meaningful preparation. Harry shuddered. By all rights he should be dead right now. 'Oh, yeah. I did die…'

"Professor," Harry started speaking after a moment of thought. "The Sorting Hat told me that I would do great in Slytherin. And because I can speak Parseltongue…," he paused, then, "everyone thought that I was Slytherin's heir." Well, now with Tommy not technically alive I am the heir. Even if the wanker was around and kicking, I might still be. Three victories in a row plus having a part of his magic... 'By the Right of Conquest I might be the heir of Slytherin too. Not to mention that I have parts of his soul grafted into mine…'

Dumbledore gave him some spiel about how Voldie had transferred some of his powers to Harry when he killed his mom and dad and tried to AK him. Well, now Harry knew that the bastard did much more than that.

"Voldemort put a bit of him in me?!" Harry feigned surprise. Apparently it was good enough.

"It appears so."

"So, I should be in Slytherin! The Sorting Hat saw it in me..." 'Salazar's house is what would suit me best these days. Besides it would give me great opportunities to drive Snape insane... Hm… Can I ask for resorting?!' Harry wondered.

"It put you in Gryffindor. While you have some qualities that Salazar Slytherin prized in his students, you were not placed in his house. Think about why that is, Harry."

'I met Draco, that git. Any House that he wasn't in sounded great at the time. It still does.'

"I asked it not to put me there."

"Exactly!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "It is our choices more than our abilities that define us. That is what makes you so very different from Voldemort!"

'Our choices, eh? Well, that is what makes me so similar to that wanker.' Harry mostly ignored Dumbledore while the old man told him to draw the sword and see the name which was encrusted in the blade. Godric Gryffindor. The headmaster pointed at the blade with a content smile.

"Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled that from the Hat, Harry."

For some time neither of them spoke after that. The headmaster was right in a way. Everything he said was all too true for the boy who entered the Chamber of Secrets. However, that was not the boy with who he was speaking now. That child, the paragon of Gryffindor never left the lair of Salazar Slytherin. He died a hero – saving an eleven year old girl from two deadly monsters. The Harry Potter who was now standing across the headmaster's desk was different. He was no hero.

Just a plain Harry with a bloody prophecy and damned Dark Lord hanging over his head.

"You need some food and sleep, Harry. You better go to the Great Hall for dinner. I need to write to Azkaban. We need our gamekeeper back. And I need to draft an advertisement for another DADA teacher..." The last sentence was muttered with a resigned tone.

Harry nodded and made his way to the exit. He had nearly reached the door when it exploded inward violently and barely missed his face before slamming in the wall with enough force to crack the wood.

A furious, Lucius Malfoy towered over the small form of Harry Potter. Behind the blond man was cowering, a small, wretched creature, who was covered with bandaged wounds. That was Dobby, the elf who in its attempts to protect Potter created no end of troubles for the boy.

For a long moment, Harry stayed frozen in place. His empty eyes gazed at the middle aged man.

**Suddenly, Harry was looking at a much younger Lucius Malfoy. The scion of a Most Noble and Ancient house and three men wearing Death Eater garbs were surrounding four muggles. By the decor, Potter concluded that they were in the living room of the family. The only unmasked magical was Malfoy. This was the blond man's special day – his initiation in the Dark Lord's followers. **

**The father and four year old boy were screaming under the cruciatus curse. Malfoy paid no attention to the torture. He was too busy enjoying himself with the eleven years old girl while another death eater was raping the mother. Hours later after all the present death eaters had their fun, Malfoy put the husband under the imperio and watched with smile how the mind controlled man murdered his family before committing suicide.**

**Then Lucius kneeled in front of his lord.**

**"Good, Lucius. Good. Present your arm."**

That's how Harry found out what someone must do to receive the Dark Mark. That the Imperio excuse was bullshit. You had not only to accept it willingly but to torture, rape and kill during your initiation. And like it all the way. All Harry could do was to glare balefully at Malfoy and fight with the overwhelming urge to AK or Crucio the utter bastard.

"Luciusss!" A quiet, barely perceptible hiss emanated from the lips of the enraged boy. Nevertheless it was a blood-chilling sound, full of fury and loathing. A sound that should have never left a human's lips. Fortunately it was not loud enough for the headmaster to overhear it. Even more importantly, Dumbledore was not able to see how Harry's eyes shone red for a second.

Malfoy on the other hand was close enough to hear and was watching the boy.

All color drained from the face of the blond man and it became whiter than chalk. It wasn't possible! Was his Lord possessing the Boy-Who-Lived?! Those eyes which for a moment were like on a serpent and were blazing bloody red just like Voldemort's...

"Lord Malfoy," Harry's words were dripping with sarcasm. "A clever little ploy, you've hatched. Getting into a fist fight with Arthur Weasley last summer. Passing one particular diary into his daughter's books…"

The blond man blanched.

"What is this nonsense, boy?" Malfoy spoke with surprisingly calm voice.

Harry grinned at him.

"What will your master think when he finds out that a precious object you were entrusted with, you in turn delivered in the hands of our illustrious headmaster?" Potter's sneer could rival the best of Snape's own attempts at the craft. The second year student pointed at Dumbledore's desk where the diary was clearly visible.

"Good evening, Lucius," the headmaster greeted. He was watching the by-play with vivid interest.

Malfoy ignored Dumbledore. His attention was solely upon Potter.

"Now that Riddle no longer inhabits the book, no one will be able to prove that you gave it to Ginny Weasley. Once again you escape the Ministry's justice. But if I know anything about your master, Voldemort won't be so merciful, will he?"

Harry took a step forward and whispered to Malfoy. "Luciusss. What would DMLE think if they find out about your initiation? How you tortured, raped and murdered those four muggles? Not to mention throwing crucios like candy and using imperio to force the husband to murdering his wife and children... You've been a bad boy, Luciusss…"

"Who are you?" Malfoy spat after taking a step back. He should be laughing at the way Potter was hissing. Yet there were his eyes, so similar to his masters… and his impossible knowledge...

"Harry Potter. Who else?" The Boy-Who-Lived replied innocently. "You better go home, Mr. Malfoy. But first you might give one of your gloves to Dobby. Now, Lucius." The last two words were given in a tone that was painfully familiar to Malfoy. It was the one Voldemort used just before he became rather liberal with the Crucio.

Lucius could not get his left glove off fast enough. He hastily peeled it from his hand and threw it at Dobby.

"Thank you, Lucius. Go home." Moments later, Malfoy could be seen running down the stairs.

The poor elf was looking incredulously at the article of clothing he had caught.

"Master is given a glove!" The little fella looked at it in wonderment. "Gave it to Dobby!" The elf started bouncing. "Dobby is FREE!" he shouted in excitement.

The elf gazed at Harry who was grinning at him.

"Harry Potter set Dobby free!"

"Dobby, how would you want to be my elf?"

The magical creature was rooted in place and looked incredulously at the boy.

"The great Harry Potter wants Dobby? As his personal elf?"

"That I do, my little friend."

The headmaster, who was shocked by Malfoy's actions, was too stunned to interfere with the bonding between Dobby and his new master. Harry's grin widened. A lot of his logistic problems were solved.

"Harry. Close the door and come back here. Our conversation is obviously not over," Dumbledore had gotten over his shock and wanted answers.

Harry took a deep breath. Was it too much to ask for a break?!

**AN: Please Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Interrogation**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling and the various publishers. This story is written with no commercial aims. I do not make any money from it.**

**$Parseltongue$**

**=ADP=**

**28 May 1993**

**Headmaster's office**

**Hogwarts**

Harry waved at Dobby to follow him as he made his way back to the Headmaster's desk. He pointed to one of the free chairs and the little critter, who regularly had the stuffing beat out of him by one Malfoy or another, jumped on it. Harry drew his wand and started casting diagnostics and the appropriate healing spells at the elf, ignoring Dumbledore, who was watching the second year student's actions with rapt attention.

Dobby stared at his new master with huge eyes which looked ready to fall off of his face. The elf was muttering about the "Great Wizard Harry Potter, SIR!" which prompted a look of exasperation from the said wizard. When Harry finished patching the little fellow to his satisfaction, he sat in the nearest free chair and looked at Dumbledore.

"You have questions, professor. Ask them," Harry said.

The headmaster watched the raven haired boy warily. The way Harry was carrying himself. It was eerily familiar. Albus concentrated on the memories of every time he had met Lily's son. He could hardly compare the image of the shy child he knew with the boy sitting across his desk. This was not the Harry, who had been thirsty for approval and was looking at him as a grandfatherly figure. Instead, Dumbledore was facing someone who was sure of himself. Very sure of himself.

Was this behavior born of pride in the child's newfound abilities or a hint of arrogance? The way Lucius acted towards Harry, the sheer terror exhibited by Malfoy was concerning to say at least. The headmaster chose his words carefully. "Harry, my boy. That was one interesting conversation you had with Lucius. Do you care to enlighten me?"

Potter tapped his chin with the tip of his wand. He watched the headmaster from the corner of his eyes. The elder wizard was siting stiffly in his chair. There was nothing that would have concerned Harry few hours ago but now he could see the truth. The professor was tense, ready to spring into action. Harry pondered his options. If worse came to worse he had a very slight chance to last long enough for Dobby to take him out of the castle. He shrugged, hopping that it won't come to that.

Despite his newfound knowledge, he was still twelve years old. Too young to become a fugitive. Well, not too young, but certainly it would be inconvenient. Besides he knew how Riddle had spent his years in Hogwarts and was not too keen to follow similar path. Tom had been alone, seeing people as nothing more than pawns. But Harry was different. Running away would leave his alone, not a nice place to be when one was burdened with Voldemort's memories.

On the other hand, thanks to the influence of that bastard's memories, Potter was now a practical man. He would use people when needed but refused to see everyone as nothing more than chess pieces on a game board... Even if he was forced to play the greatest game of them all – the one of thrones with Magical Britain as the prize.

Harry was aware that ultimately he had few choices for his future. If he lived long enough and succeeded in disposing of Voldemort his alternatives would be simple – either be a powerful man who had to deal with the politics of the day; become little more than a pawn for whoever was in power after the dust settles or if he was truly unlucky he would be vilified by people too scared by the power he wields, and perceived as a treat that must be dealt with. Harry knew how fickle and unreasonable the Wizarding world was. If he lived long enough to defeat Riddle once and for all, his legend would grow even more. He would not be permitted to quietly disappear from the public eyes.

Suddenly, Harry had an epiphany. He knew how the headmaster had reached the position he was holding today. After Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, the headmaster had little choice in what he could do. If he had refused all the titles and positions which were heaped upon him and tried to melt in the shadows and mind his own business, the public would sooner or later accuse him of going Dark. His two most likely alternatives were to live in the spotlight or to become a victim of his own success. The same choice he believed that Dumbledore had to make decades ago. After all neither of them were the Flamel's who after few centuries in the spotlight were left mostly alone to live their lives in peace. Besides, at the time, with a lot less connected world, those two had much greater opportunity to simply disappear. It was not so nowadays. But most importantly, the Flamels didn't have to deal with anything that even looked like the Wizarding press, which could easily shape a society's perception and opinions.

Well, at least Harry knew what his realistic options after the endgame were. Plus, thanks to the influence of the soul fragments he had merged with, he had ambition to spare. However none of that was of immediate concern. He had a troublesome headmaster to deal with right now.

"Professor, as you have no doubt guessed, I did not tell everything when there were too many people listening. You never know when some git would take a stroll through someone's mind uninvited."

Albus winced.

"In order to save some time please answer one question for me, Headmaster. Do you know what exactly this diary was?" Harry jabbed his left index finger in the general direction of the notebook with a ragged hole in the middle, which was still on Dumbledore's desk.

Albus looked at the former dark artifact over his oversized nose with narrowed eyes.

"I have my suspicions but I'm not sure."

"It's a Horcrux. One of at least two Voldemort made. This diary was his first."

Dumbledore palled. This was worse than he feared!

"He made more of than one of these abominations?!" the headmaster whispered gravely.

The corner of Harry's mouth curled up in a grimace which might be confused with a mirthless smile. "He is an ambitious little bugger, isn't he?"

In a blink of an eye, Dumbledore had his wand out and it was pointing at Harry. Potter rolled his eyes at the theatrics. He was not surprised that the headmaster was reaching conclusion similar to that made by Malfoy.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore's voice thundered. The old man had let go of some of his usually excellent control. Magic swirled around the headmaster creating static which in turn caused his colorful robes to billow as if in the midst of a hurricane.

"Nice show, professor. There is no need of that." Harry waved dismissively at the deadly weapon pointed in his direction. He looked at Fawkes who was watching the spectacle put into display by his human with eyes shining with amusement. The bird thrilled cheerfully from its golden perch.

"Answer me! What did you do with Harry!?"

"That's quite a story. You see, I did not lie. Much. Everything happened as I told you except one tiny detail that had some interesting consequences if I say so myself." Harry was experiencing some kind of twisted pleasure by stringing along the headmaster who loved his secrets and had a penchant of misleading people when he deemed necessary. This time Potter's smile was genuine. He could sense the irritation of the old coot who did not like the dose of his own medicine he was receiving.

"Fine, fine. Time to illuminate the situation. You see, if that ruddy snake I had to deal with..." Harry glared at the professor but was careful not to meet his eyes. Not before he had chance to put the knowledge of Occlumency to good use and protect his mind. "By the way headmaster, will the next DADA teacher be useless fraud again or just try to kill me outright as last year?"

Dumbledore cringed. His plans for the stone had backfired spectacularly. Who would have guessed that Riddle had used that foulest of magics to survive? After all there were few necromantic rituals which, while very dark and requiring a lot sacrifices, might have accounted for the Dark Lord's survival and most importantly did not shatter one's own soul. Especially when accounting for the fact that after bouncing from baby Harry, the Killing curse would not be at full power when it hit Riddle. But that was discussion for another time. Yeah Dumbledore's attempt to force the resolution of the prophecy during Harry's first year was a mess of epic proportions.

"Well, we'll see with what I'll have to deal next year. But I digress. You see, the damn pet of Salazar Slytherin was a big bastard. Thanks to Fawkes I did not end as a statue." Harry winked at the Phoenix. "I owe you a lot of your favorite treats, buddy." The avian bobbed its head in excitement and chirruped merrily in agreement.

Albus cleared his throat. His wand was not wavering and was still aimed at Harry's head. The boy shrugged and continued his story.

"Where was I? Ah." Harry tapped his bandaged left arm with his wand. "As I told you earlier, the bloody basilisk managed to get me good with one of its fangs. What I did not share is that the damn thing was too old, I guess. Its venom was too potent and the Phoenix tears only slowed it briefly. They bought me enough time to deal with the Horcrux in the diary." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Then I died."

The headmaster glared at the lighting bold shaped scar on Harry's forehead. So what Poppy detected all those years ago was not just some dark essence of the curse and bit of Voldemort's magic. When he was researching for the way Riddle may have survived that evening, Albus had briefly considered the possibility but promptly discarded it. But now, with the diary as proof... Either the fragment from it was possessing Harry or he had been mistaken and the poor boy had been carrying around a piece of Voldemort's soul all these years. A piece that had taken over the body of James and Lily's only child.

"Tom." Dumbledore declared. The wand trembled in his hand. All came back to the prophecy. He did not want to believe it. Harry was dead and his body was possessed by Voldemort.

"Oh, get over yourself, Headmaster. I am not Riddle. There was no way for either fragment of his soul to successfully possess me. Hello. Basilisk venom. Destroyed horcrux. A lot more of that stuff was coursing through my veins. That mess had some unexpected consequences. By the way, how is it that for twelve years no one found out that I was soul anchor for that Morgana cursed bastard?!"

"Madam Pomfrey examined you as a babe. She was able to only detect dark magic on your scar which we believed to be little more than residue from the curse."

That piece of information caused Harry to frown.

"Well, I might overlook that. On one hand she hat to patch me up multiple time during my stay here and she did splendid job. But every time I was in the hospital wing it was another opportunity to detect that thing lodged in my head. And she failed."

"That is not something a healer usually looks for. I do not recall any mention of living Horcrux until now."

"Fair enough. Thanks to the copious amounts of venom donated by that troublesome beastie, I and both soul anchors died. Then things became... strange. Just before that, the piece of soul that was in the diary sought a way to survive once its container was no more. I believe what happened is partly because there was another shard in me. Just as I was dying the other piece tried to possess me. You'll find this part fascinating, professor. I found myself somewhere else."

Harry told Dumbledore about King's Cross station and the two variants of Riddle but did not mention the being who he believed to be the goddess of magic herself. This part of the story had the undivided attention of the old man. "You see, I was in a kind of limbo. With two extra pieces of soul to boot. So I was given a choice. Whether to cross over or go back."

The old man nodded. He was not sure if he believed the boy but he could not sense any lie in him. Perhaps a bit of omission. Apparently the youngster believed the story. Whether it was true or a hallucination caused by the venom was another question, but if that was the case it did not explain Harry's new abilities.

"You are alive. Whoever you are. You are not the boy who entered the Chamber of Secrets. That much is obvious."

"When I decided to come back I was not aware of the string attached."

"Ah?"

"Technically there were three souls in that place. One had to pass on. One body to which a soul could return. No, Headmaster, I am not a Horcrux for a second time. Though that might have been better in your eyes. My soul and the piece from the diary merged. I am Harry Potter but not as you know him. My soul was shattered and rebuild. So you are correct. That innocent child who went into the monster's lair did not come back. I have seventeen years of additional memories, headmaster. "

"Tom Riddle's memories," Dumbledore whispered. This was... For the first time in his long life, words failed Albus.

He pondered this new information. At seventeen Tom was a nasty piece of work. But that was before he started his travels and truly became the Dark Lord. Considering what he heard, Albus wondered if he could keep this boy, no a young man in a child's body from following the same twisted path. And the prophecy? Was it still in play? He should go to the Department of Mysteries and check its orb. That was the one sure way to know.

For a minute they stood in silence, each deep within their own thoughts. While the headmaster was pondering if Harry was saying the truth, or what he believed it to be, Potter was making plans for the summer. Going back in the hard labor prison that was his "home" was out of the question. If he did so it would not be long before his "loving" family met an unfortunate accident. Now, unless his parents were idiots, something he doubted considering the high praises heaped upon them by most teachers, there must be a will. Which if Harry was not mistaken was not executed. He wanted, needed to believe that his mum and dad did not wish him to be raised in Durzkaban.

"Let's say that I believe you. What are you going to do now... Harry?" Dumbledore was the one to disrupt the silence.

"Finish school. There are subjects which Riddle did not take or excel at while he was studying here. He barely scrapped Acceptable in Runes for example and there are some gaps in his memories about NEWT level transfiguration. I think that he fixed that later but that's something I do not know. Besides I believe that there will be some exciting possibilities for self-study."

"Is this the only reason you wish to continue as student? And for how long?"

'Fishing, eh Albus?' Harry wondered.

"Headmaster, I might have that cold-blooded son of a bitch's memories but I am not him! I have friends here and it was amply demonstrated that this place is not as safe as you are telling everybody who would listen! The safest place in Britain! Hah! I won't leave my friends to face alone whatever horror is unleashed in the halls of Hogwarts next!"

Interesting. Dumbledore raised an ancient, gray eyebrow. This was the first thing the boy said today that he believed unquestionably. Perhaps love truly was the power he knows not. Just not in the way Albus believed until now. If, when Voldemort returned... Harry could really become his equal. But his love to his friends could be what keeps him in the light. He could have never considered such a twist of fate. Fascinating.

Fawkes thrilled affirmative and sent feeling of support. So his familiar agreed. In a way Dumbledore was right. Love and loyalty might keep Harry from becoming the next Dark Lord. However he was not a Light wizard. There was something that most modern witches and wizards had forgotten. Light did not necessary mean good and Dark was not a synonym of evil. In the coming years the disagreement over this and similar points would make both their lives interesting in the Chinese sense of the word.

"You wish to continue school in your age group?" It was not really a question.

"Yes. Riddle was alone. He had no friends. I believe that contributed to his fall. There was no one who he trusted to keep him grounded. "

"I see." That was a conclusion Albus had reached a long time ago. This was the reason he requested the help of Molly Weasley. She had gently guided her youngest son into becoming Harry's friend. 'Now that which sounded as a grand idea two years ago had its pros and cons. On one hand, Ron was one of Harry's friends. On the other if or most likely when, the young man discovered this... hmm... manipulation is perhaps too strong word... There could be some serious trouble. Well, I'll cross that bridge when I reach it.'

"I wonder, headmaster. Is my life some kind of twisted experiment you are running?"

The old man was flabbergasted by that question. It came out of the blue.

"I do not know what you mean, Harry," answered a confused Dumbledore.

"Isss that ssso? Who left me with the Durleyssss? Consssidering that you sssent me back and brussshed assside my protetsss lassst sssummer I have to wonder. I ssspent ten yearssss living in a cupboard, Dumbledore!" Harry jumped on his feet and shouted, switching between English and parseltongue.

His furious voice was turning into hissing. "I wasss worked worsssse than a housssse-elf! I wasss ssstarved! Ssso tell me, am I an experimet for you to sssee if I turn out jussst asss Riddle? Only the consssstant beatingssss are missssing. Thossse were resssserved for when I did ssssomething freakisssh like accidental magic! Until my first day at primary sssschool I thought that my name wassss Freak, damn you!"

Albus recoiled as if struck! For a moment he met Harry's eyes which were blazing with crimson light. In spite of his shock, Dumbledore had the presence of mind to use a bit of passive legilimency and scan the surface thoughts of the agitated young man. If it wasn't for what he saw, the Headmaster might been equally amused and disturbed by Harry's antics. However, what he found in the boy's mind... Dumbledore simply stared, his wand hanging uselessly in his limp hand.

**_Harry was whipped with a belt the evening after he turned the hair of a teacher blue. Then he was thrown in his cupboard without food for days. Unfortunately accidental magic healed his back leaving no trace of the beating._**

**_One moment he was painting a door, then he was removing the weeds from the garden, then he was mowing the grass. Cleaning, cooking meals which he was never permitted to eat. Endless chores from dawn till dusk every day. The foolish grin that stretched his face when he finally was told that his name was Harry Potter on the morning before he went to school for the first time._**

Dumbledore's magic shook his office. Glass shattered. His master crafted silver instruments crumpled as if hit by sledgehammer. Fawkes had to take flight when his perch was shattered by invisible force. The Phoenix thrilled in distress at the fury of his human. Dobby was terrified by the wrath of the great elder wizard and hid behind Harry Potter, Sir!

**_The headmaster, watched through Harry's eyes as _****_Potter's_****_ cousin and his cronies invented the game of Harry hunting. _****_The boy_****_ watched with resignation how Dudley beat another kid that wanted to be his friend. Then there were the glares of teachers and neighbours who believed the lies spread by the Durs_****_l_****_ey's. Then there was that never sufficiently-damned cupboard. Home indeed! And the last summer, after Dobby pulled out his stunt_****_.._****_. The small bedroom that was Harry's new room was turned in a cell more secure than the ones in many prisons..._**

Albus sagged in his chair. The torrents of magic that were trashing his office subdued. He broke contact with Harry's eyes. Those memories were genuine. The feeling of helplessness, despair and deeply buried anger were the real deal. He did not notice the tell-tale distortion of modified memories. Now Dumbledore knew. He had FUBAR'd by the numbers.

"Professor, in the future, please stay out of my head!" Harry snapped. "Did you see enough or am I still unreasonable little kid? What more do you need? Wizard oath? Pensieve memories?!"

"I believe you." Dumbledore rasped. The old man looked around his office at the devastation and sulked. What a mess. "We may need the memories extracted for viewing depending what you want done with the Dursley's. Unfortunately one thing has not changed. You will be safest in that house with your blood relations," Albus grumbled. Those wards based on Lily's protection were formidable.

"Morgana'sss titssss old man! I am not going back!" Harry shouted. Invisible wind shook the pieces of broken furniture and shattered trinkets.

"I did not say that you should return. I merely stated a fact which does not change despite what any of us may wish."

Harry glared at the chest of the headmaster but reined in his anger and started thinking. The pieces of the puzzle came together like broken glass mending under repairing charm.

"Blood wards. That's what all the fuss is about, isn't it?"

He received a nod in answer.

"Based on whatever protection you were granted by your mother's sacrifice."

"I absorbed a part of Voldemort's very soul. The essence of his being. Of his magic. The wards are as likely to trigger against me now or to ignore both me and Riddle if he returns. His pet Dead munchers too, thanks to the mark."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a minute. When he put it that way, Harry had a point. The wards might work as if nothing had happened. Or do what Potter was concerned about. Or something altogether different. Bloody mess. So much for his carefully laid plans to protect and raise this child. There was little more than a week before Harry would need new accommodation at any rate. He looked at the youngster who was still angry.

"What do you want to do with your relatives?"

Harry's glare intensified. This was another leading question. He smirked.

"What I want is to go Voldemort on their asses. What I need is justice."

Dumbledore looked relieved at that answer. This was something that the Chief Warlock was more than glad to help with.

"It would be best if the muggle authorities deal with them. The Dursley's," Harry spat the name like it was poisonous, "loathe anything abnormal. As if they were ever normal, the bastards. I want them dragged through the courts. Their precious reputation tarnished. Then destroyed."

The headmaster looked at Harry with a small frown. The boy was angry. Too angry perhaps but it was understandable. Besides after a trial and what Albus believed that would be undoubtedly guilty verdict, the Dursley's reputation would be destroyed. No one liked child abusers. Curiously this was one of the very rare cases in which Dumbledore did not think that a second chance is warranted. Those people were on their way to turn this boy in another Dark Lord.

"Two points headmaster."

"Yes my boy?"

"My parents will," Harry fixed the elder wizard with an uncomfortable stare.

"I sealed it shortly after Lily and James were murdered. I believed that it was for your protection at the time. Considering the chaos and the attacks that continued for weeks after Voldemort disappeared, I still think that it was the correct course of action. But perhaps I should have opened it few years ago. I am so sorry Harry. I forgot about it after so many years."

"I want it opened."

"We'll go to the ministry in few days when the immediate fallout of the attacks passes."

While Harry preferred not to wait he knew that the old man had a point. After being temporarily removed from office he'd have his hands full. Besides the petrified students will be healed in the morning and that could become a circus. He'll wait few days. But after the will reading, Harry decided he had to visit Gringotts where a second copy should be sealed, beyond the reach of Dumbledore. It would be a good way to see if the old coot tampers with it.

"Second. The basilisk. It is mine by the rules of conquest. I died slaying that thing and considering that I do not know if there is much left from the Potter's estates I may sorely need those finances in the future. If you for once do not interfere I'll donate ten percent of its monetary value and further five percent in potions ingredients to Hogwarts. For obvious reasons, I don't want the ministry to have anything to do with this."

For a moment Dumbledore wondered whether he should try to negotiate for a bigger share for the school. Merlin knew, with how the governors were about new equipment, which was sorely needed, Hogwarts could use every knut. But he decided not to push his luck. What Harry was offering was more than generous, especially when Lockhart had by all accounts proved to be a menace instead of help. That idiot was something else Albus needed to deal with too.

"Fair enough. May I suggest that you keep some of the ingredients for yourself? They are extremely rare and you never know when you'll need them."

"That is the plan. Goodnight professor." Harry looked around the office which resembled a recent battlefield. "You'll have your hands full tonight."

"It is my mess to clean up, Harry. Good night."

**=ADP=**

Once he had left the office with Dobby trailing behind him, Harry instructed the elf to transport him to the kitchens. He was in no mood for any more explanations that evening. He inhaled the rich dinner which the Hogwarts elves served while Dobby was entertaining them with tall tales about Potter's achievements up to date. Scaring the crap of Malfoy and freeing the overenthusiastic fella had a prominent place within the legend the elf was creating.

Harry made his way to the hospital wing where he found Mrs Weasley asleep on a chair next to the bed in which Ginny was recovering. He checked on Ron who was suffering under the effects of Skele-Gro potion. Thanks to the enchanted curtains, Ronald's shout, given when he saw Harry, did not wake the rest of the Weasley's.

"Blimey, mate! What happened? Are you okay? How did you save Ginny?"

"I'll live," Harry deadpanned. He gave his friend an abbreviated version which was conspicuously lacking any mention of him dying or soul fragments.

"Get some rest. Re-growing bones sucks."

Ron made a face remembering another of Lockhart's "innocent" mistakes. "Yeah. You'd know. At least the idiot didn't vanish the bones in my leg."

"Night, mate."

Harry left Ron on his own devices and went to the bed next to which where Hermione petrified form was placed. He tenderly traced the stone cold contour of her cheek.

"I did it, 'Mione. It was a basilisk as you found out. Everyone is safe now." He went on to tell her the story. "Please get better."

**=ADP=**

Next morning marked the beginning of one of the better days in Harry's life. After Snape delivered the freshly brewed Mandrake potions Hermione was finally revived. Harry watched how Madam Pomfrey used her wand to levitate the purple liquid to 'Mione's lips which immediately started regaining color. He watched fascinating how her skin started pulsing. Soon she lost the outward appearance of a statute crafted with impossible detail and the stone was replaced by pale skin. She blinked a few times in confusion, then saw Harry. He was tackled by a brown haired missile who proceeded to hug the life out of him.

"Harry!" Hermione sobbed in his shoulder. "You're all right!"

Then to his bewilderment she released him and started hitting his chest with her small but surprisingly powerful fist. "You prat! Never do something like that again! You could have died! "

In the next moment she was hugging him again.

'Girls are weird.' He thought. Harry smiled contentedly and hugged back his first friend.

"How could you? Facing a basilisk alone?!" Hermione sobbed on his shoulder.

"Shh. 'Mione. I am fine. Everyone is all right."

Poppy ran a few tests on Hermione and declared her ready to leave. She was led to the Great Hall by Harry who was afraid to let go of her hand. The day kept getting better and better. Ironically enough, now that Harry was pretty sure that he had become the Heir of Slytherin, his schoolmates started apologizing to him about their groundless accusations. To Hermione's utter horror, the end of year exams were canceled except for those in their OWL and NEWT years.

Dumbledore managed to make an ass of himself and increase the animosity which all Slytherins felt towards Harry by giving him and Ron 200 house points each without giving a good explanation. Apparently the whole basilisk fiasco was a deep dark secret and no one except the elder Weasley's, the people who were in the chamber, Hermione and professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, knew. At least the house cup was now guaranteed to be Gryffindor's.

The one high point was that Draco was conspicuously quiet for what little remained of the term.

**=ADP=**

When it became painfully obvious that as far as the headmaster was concerned the whole deadly monster at school issue was closed, Harry started scheming. He was determined to reveal some of what had happened, but not before Dumbledore unsealed his parents will. So he mixed with his schoolmates and was asking various questions, mainly about who's who in the Wizarding world and whoever in the ministry has relatives that are attending Hogwarts right now. To his surprise he learned, from the Weasley twins of all people, that the cute redhead girl in Hufflepuff that was in his year, Susan Bones, was the niece of one Amelia Bones. The Director of DMLE.

That evening, between dealing with his potions and charms homework, Harry got a small piece of parchment and wrote a note.

_Dear Ms. Bones,_

_Certain facts about the attacks that were carried against our fellow students have come to my attention. I believe that they should be shared with the DMLE. Recently I was made aware that your aunt, Amelia Bones, is the Director of that fine institution. After the end of the school year please ask her if she knows details about what really happened this year. I will be glad to share what I know. You will be able to contact me by calling the house elf who will deliver this note. His name is Dobby and he will be able to contact me._

_Regards, _

_A friend_

"Dobby."

POP

"Harry Potter, Sir calls Dobby?!" The excitable little bugger appeared from thin air and started bouncing around. His long ears were flapping madly around like a bat's wings.

"Can you do me a favor, Dobby?"

"Harry Potter, Sir wants help form Dobby?!" The elf looked ready to start crying tears of joy.

"Please deliver this note to Susan Bones in Hufflepuff. Please make sure that no one but her sees or overhears you. And do not mention my name this time. If she calls you later, tell her that you can bring me a note if she wants to communicate but I need to remain anonymous until the end of the school year."

With another POP Dobby went on his errand.

**=ADP=**

An irritated red-haired girl was glaring at a house-elf who had delivered her a note. There were all kinds of rumors flying around about who or what carried out the attacks but there was no concrete information. And Susan was very curious girl. The contents of the note had an effect on her similar to that of a matador waving a red flag at enraged bull. It got her undivided attention.

She turned all too sweetly at the messenger who gulped. Dobby had a new appreciation for all that advn-tur-ous stuff that his master had to deal with. The elf gulped when Ms. Bones took a step towards him. Dobby had the nagging feeling that working for Harry Potter, Sir could turn out to be more dangerous than his time with the Malfoys. Take for example his current position. He was held down by two of House Bones elves who were called in by Susan to assist her after she read the note and Dobby refused to cooperate. She grinned at the poor little thing who gulped. 

**AN: Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

****Chapter 3: New beginning****

****Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling and the various publishers. This story is written with no commercial aims. I do not make any money from it.****

****$Parseltongue$****

****=ADP=****

* * *

****3 June 1993****

****Hogwarts****

Now that all the excitement after the attacked students were turned back to normal by the healer was over, it was business as usual in Hogwarts. Life for Harry had its ups and downs. No DADA and exams. Hurray! However there was the one outstanding problem or to be more precise a dungeon bat, that was giving him trouble. Harry had one last class of double potions and then he won't have to deal with Snape until the start of the next year. Potter had to deal with one more issue too. His plan to expose the basilisk mess to the DMLE had hit a snag. Apparently teenage girls could not resist a good mystery so now, Susan Bones with the help of her two henchmen, the house-elves Blinky and Sport were hunting through Hogwarts for information about his identity. Dobby had fallen victim to the evil devices of the red haired fury. Whatever Susan did to him, he refused do go near the girl unless Harry gave him permission to tell her everything. The poor thing was more scared by the second year Hufflepuff than from his previous owners the Malfoys. How did that happen, Harry had no idea and was in no hurry to find out. In few years he might find the prospect of being interrogated by cute girl interesting but now he was only twelve for Merlin's sake! All of his hormones were still at the stage they were telling him that girls were icky. The poor bastard had no idea what Fate had waiting for him... But that is a story for another time.

****=ADP=****

* * *

Harry was in Hogwarts première torture room also known as Snape's potions lab. He was sitting next to Hermione and was watching the Slytherins on the other side of the classroom like a hawk. Harry had cast a minor shield charm and few other useful spells over their cauldron which prevented random junior dead eaters from throwing stuff into the noxious brew that was simmering on a quiet fire. Today's assignment was to brew a muscle relaxant which was excellent for use after heavy work out like quiddich game and was of minor help after cruciatus exposure. It helped with the cramping of the muscles caused by misfiring of overstimulated nerves which often happened to the victims of the torture curse. The sickly green mixture reminded Harry of the killing curse. If the appalling smell was anything to judge by this potion would taste ever fouler than the usual wizarding medicine. Something with which Harry was unfortunately familiar and could attest that the bloody things usually tasted much worse that it smelled and that was telling. At least the potions worked as advertised.

Usually.

Professor Snape was his usual sneering self and was doing his best to intimidate the Gryffindors into making mistakes. Naturally the potion's master snakes could do no wrong. And the pink smoke that was coming from the cauldron of Pansy and Goyle had to be just a trick of the light...

The infamous greasy git went to the station where those two were working and frowned. That was new. Whatever his unfortunate snakes had done with their ingredients the brew they were making had turned into pink going on purple goo. It was stinking too. Snape waved his wand and disappeared the contents of the cauldron before casting few air cleansing spells. One could not be too careful with the little idiots that were staging their scheduled invasion on his precious lab. If he did not pay attention for even a moment one of the dunderheads would created something that would melt the cauldron and start eating the floor. Or the so called kids. One of these days those little monsters might just blow up his nice, cool dungeon!

Snape shook his head and stalked towards his favorite prey. The spawn of James Potter! The glory hound was sitting with that know-it-all muggleborn, Granger. So there was a chance that the foolish boy won't create something that would suffocate them all. He looked at Potter's cauldron and grimaced. The damned potion looked perfect. Pure luck no doubt. He frowned. There was a minor shield charm over the cauldron. So Granger was showing off again. He glared at the witch and stalked away.

The professor continued his hunt and went to check up on victim number two. The Longbottom squib. This was the greatest menace amongst the second years. Cauldrons melted just by being in his general vicinity. Nevile proved to be faithful to tradition. With a loud crack his cauldron split in two, unable to contain the dirty green crystal which was a merrily stewing brew until few seconds ago. Snape's right eye started twitching. At least there was no explosion. Yet.

"Longbottom get out of my lab! NOW!"

Nevile hastily grabbed his stuff and made a strategic retreat. When the boy was safely out of the room Snape exhaled a breath in relief. The chances of finishing the day without major incidents just skyrocketed. He glared at the damned crystal Longbottom had created. The bloody thing was turning the remains of the cauldron into more of itself. Snape idly wondered if he could sell that thing and recuperate the losses inflicted by Longbottom in the form of destroyed equipment but he decided not to. Anything created by that boy in a cauldron was a bad mojo.

It took Snape ten attempts before he was able to vanish the last traces of the green crystal.

Forty minutes later the professor dismissed the class and hid in his office. Snape needed a glass of fire-whiskey to celebrate. He had survived another year of Potter and Longbottom. He hoped that by the end of the summer his frayed nerves will calm down.

****=ADP=****

* * *

****4 June 1993****

****Room of Requirements****

****Hogwarts****

Harry was walking back and forth along a corridor on the seventh floor of the castle. On his third pass a plain wooden door appeared on the left wall. He grinned and opened it. Inside a huge circular room was waiting for him. Harry closed the door, sealed it with a locking charm and used a silencing spell on it. He was glad that Tom's memories of this place seemed to be accurate. Now when he had recovered from the battle with the basilisk and its consequences, Harry was eager to test the skills he had inherited by the future Dark Lord. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Potter sensed a subtle strand of magic brushing over his mind. He felt a prickling sensation, just like a bit of static electricity, passing over the exposed parts of his skin. Harry opened his eyes and smiled. A roll training dummies was standing near the wall he was facing. One of the mannequins shuddered and took a step forward. It was sparkling thanks to a wave of magic which was rising around it from the floor. In seconds the dummy was transformed in exact replica of a man clad in the black garbs of a Death Eater. White, skull like mask covered the face of the construct. It headed towards Harry with a sure gait. The replica of a terrorist retrieved a wand from a hidden holster. Harry grinned. 'That will do!'

Potter drew his own wand in a smooth move and whipped his arm in a slashing motion while whispering an incantation. A thin scythe of purple energy emanated from the tip of the wooden stick and flew at the practice dummy. The Death Eater replica raised a Protego shield. The defensive measure proved inadequate against the ribbon cutting curse. It flashed for a split second as it tried to absorb and deflect the incoming attack. Then the shield collapsed and the curse struck the animated mannequin. It was cut neatly in two, from left shoulder to right thigh. What happened next would stay seared in Harry's brain for a long time to come. For three reasons. First because he had failed to consider exactly what he was doing. He was not facing some random dummies. This room was identical to the one which Tom Riddle had used for training during his last couple of years at Hogwarts. The junior Dark Lord had wanted a realistic training environment and opponents. The only difference was that instead of simulated Aurors, Harry was facing replica Dead Eaters. As one might expect, by realistic Riddle had thought about dummies transfigured as men and women who bled when wounded. That was the second thing that would act as an object lesson for Potter. He had to get used to the carnage. When facing the real deal he could not afford to play games.

The simulated Dead Eater's body buckled and his bisected torso slid in two pieces. Steaming blood and entrails hit the cool stone floor. Harry watched the gruesome spectacle for a moment before he doubled over and emptied his stomach on the ground. While the shocked youngster was puking out his guts a second dummy was transformed by a surge of magic and another Dead Nibbler was on the move. Harry, who was still gripped by shock was hurled to the floor by a low powered blasting hex. Strong enough to leave some impressive bruises but weak enough not to really harm someone. That was the third lesson for the day. Always pay attention to your surroundings!

Still prone on the ground, Harry rolled away, barely avoiding another curse which hit the stone floor with a dull clang. He jumped to his feet and twisted his body in time to avoid the next attack.

"Merlin's hairy balls!" Potter cursed.

He had made yet another mistake. He had lost grip of his wand when the first surprise attack hit him and the weapon was laying meters away. Harry ducked under a cutting curse. He stretched his right arm in the direction of his weapon.

"Accio Harry Potter's wand!" He shouted. To his surprise the wooden stick shot from its resting place and headed to his open arm. Good news. He could cast wandlessly. The bad one – he fucked up again and focused all his attention on the task of retrieving his wand. A cutting curse slashed his cheek opening a shallow thin cut in the skin, which started seeping blood. Two more cursed were heading his way and Harry knew that he'll be unable to dodge both of them. He darted right and avoided the brunt of another cutter which only slashed his left sleeve. A blasting curse hit his left shoulder and threw him on his back. Thanks to his quiddich honed sight and reflexes, Harry saw the wand heading in his direction and his right hand darted in an effort to catch it. However this time he was paying attention to his opponent. Harry pointed his left arm at the animated dummy in the universal "STOP" motion.

"Protego!"

A transparent shield formed between Potter and the simulated Dead Muncher. The defensive wall of energy shook madly when a blasting hex splashed over its surface. Then the shield shattered when yet another attack connected with it but not before stopping the assault. The Protego did its job. Harry had his wand in hand and went on the attack. In four seconds he shot as many attacks. Piercing charm, cutting curse, another piercing and finally a powerful blasting curse. The target dodged the first spell and blocked the next two with a shield of his own. The last curse blasted a hole through the weakened defense and struck the replica where the breastbone should be. The torso of the simulated enemy caved in and the dummy was thrown at nearby wall with enough force to shatter bones.

$Halt!$ Harry hissed before another mannequin could be animated. He dropped on his knees panting. While Potter had the raw knowledge neither his mind or body were ready for real combat. Those dummies had the skills similar to fifth year students and not only used vastly underpowered spells but lacked creativity. Yet they were more than formidable opponents for Harry as he was right now. On the brighter note, now Harry knew that if needed he could relatively easy breach a shield made by the average fifth year student. Not too shabby for someone with twelve years old body! Speaking about body... He was bloody weak and slow! Only thanks to the quiddich practice he was able to dodge some of the attacks. He stood up muttering vile curses. Harry knew what was the solution of that problem. Training, training and more training.

Hours later, when he was done for the day, Harry felt like one big bruise. His core was about three quarters empty and all he wanted was to down few of the potions which quiddich players usually drank after hard game and to fall asleep. For a week at least.

****=ADP=****

* * *

****5 June 1993****

****Ministry of Magic****

To Harry's pleasant surprise, the headmaster apparently decided to keep his promise as far as the Potter's will was concerned. A few minutes earlier, Dumbledore had summoned him to his office from where they took the floo to the ministry atrium. Thanks to Tom's memories, Harry knew how to properly enter and exit the transport network so for the first time instead of falling to the ground clumsily he landed gracefully on his feet.

Harry found himself in a large, well lit room with a marble floor. The wall behind him was covered by more than a dozen fireplaces. He followed the headmaster in the depths of the ministry. Thanks to being a guest of the Chief Warlock he was left alone by the guards. They did not even check his wand for Morgana's sake!

Dumbledore led the boy to an out of the way office which was the entrance to the hall of records. They were met by a young wizard who grinned seeing the headmaster and gave a small bow.

"Chief Warlock! And my goodness Harry Potter! What could I do for you, sir?"

Harry shuddered. The man had decidedly a fanboy glint in his eyes. 'Great, another one of those!'

"We are here to unseal the will of Mr. Potter's parents. It is high time we did so."

Dumbledore had his best grandfatherly smile plastered on his face. The ministry official nodded.

"I'll bring it to you right away sir!"

The man disappeared behind the door in the far end of the small office. He came back couple of minutes later carrying a large scroll covered with various wax seals. When he gave it to the headmaster, the professor drew his wand and spoke formally.

"As the Chief Warlock of the Britain's Wizengamot I unseal thee! So mote it be!"

The scroll gave off a soft blue glow and half of the wax seals melted away without a trace.

"So is that it? Can I now have it read and executed?" Asked Harry.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Not quite yet. First we need to go to Gringotts." He pointed to the goblins coat of arms on the biggest of the remaining seals. "They will verify that the document is not tampered with by comparing it with their copy and then they will handle its execution."

"I want it done immediately."

The old man was not exactly thrilled at that declaration. Albus really did not know the contents of the will and he despised going into a situation blind. However he relented. Dumbledore knew that he had already lost any good will he ever had with Harry and what he was doing now was an attempt to mend bridges. Considering the boy's situation he needed at least amicable relationship with him. The alternatives did not bear thinking about!

****=ADP=****

* * *

****5 June 1993****

****Gringotts****

The pair of wizards entered the halls of the Goblin bank drawing curious stares by witches and wizards alike. Dumbledore led Harry to the nearest free teller.

"Master Goblin, may your gold flow forevermore. We need to talk with the Potter Account Manager."

The short creature glared at the two wizards. The Chief Warlock was not one of the goblin's favorite persons. Ever since he had sealed their will, the vaults and assets of House Potter were frozen and not earning any profit! Such a terrible sacrilege!

The goblin looked searchingly at Harry's forehead. When he saw the infamous scar he grinned viciously.

"Account Manager Cuttroat will be here soon. Now move away I have work to do!" He dismissed the wizards rudely.

"Charming fellow." Harry muttered.

Dumbledore gave him a small smile.

"Yes, the goblins are different. Most of them have no reason to like wizards. The majority of the magical people treat them as dirt. That is not helping relations."

"Considering that they hold our money this is a foolish way to act towards them."

Their little chat ground to a halt when an elderly goblin hurried to meet them. His face was covered with blade scars that would have terrified the old Harry but now Potter just looked at the approaching man with professional interest. The vicious looking bastard came to a stop in front of Harry and glared at him. The boy raised an eyebrow at that. It was not good when your supposed account manager greets you that way. Joy.

"Account manager Cutthroat, I presume?"

Grunt. Blood-curdling glare, which did not faze Harry in the least.

"Heir Potter. You finally decided to grace us with your presence!"

The old goblin spat.

Dumbledore winced at that, which did not go unnoticed by Harry.

"May your vault is full with gold forever and your enemies drown with their own blood, master Cutthroat. I believe it will be better to retire to a more private place. Meanwhile, the headmaster have something to get off his chest, I would think. Isn't that right, professor?"

The account manager nodded sharply. He too had noticed how shifty Dumbledore looked.

"This way." grunted the old goblin.

He led the wizards to a small, secure conference room. It was richly decorated with tapestries showing goblin victories over wizard folk. Harry absently noted that they were similar to some of the battles for which Binns spoke. However here the outcome shown was somewhat different. After all you do not let the defeated folks to handle all your money. At best that happens as a peace settlement. Or a tribute after you got your ass royally handled to yourself. Thanks to his independent research, Harry knew that the goblins had won the last two rebellions by the skin of their teeth.

The two wizards sat on comfortable arm-chairs across a small table from the goblin. The scarred creature glared at Harry.

"Heir Potter, please explain why haven't you come to visit us after all the missives we sent you? It is a grave insult to ignore us in such a way."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that accusation. He wondered in what other ways the old man had meddled in his life.

"I believe that this is for you to answer, professor. I have not received a single letter or message from Gringotts master Cutthroat. If I have to make an educated guess, I'll have to say that my post is being intercepted or redirected." He glared pointedly at the whiskered meddlesome old coot.

The account manager followed Harry's gaze and smiled at the Chief Warlock. It was more like a grimace filled with razor sharp teeth.

"Well, you see my boy, as you were just introduced to the magical world, I feared that you would be overwhelmed. I wanted you to have a normal childhood not interrupted by such responsibilities."

Harry snorted.

"You wanted me under your control in other words. It is so much easier to deal with ignorant child after all. For the last week I've been wondering why I never received any letters from the magical world before my eleventh birthday not to mention how few I got afterwards. It is highly irregular considering that I am the bloody Boy-Who-Survived. Is my correspondence from the bank still intact, headmaster?"

"It might have been lost with some other letters... My boy all I did was for your protection!"

Said boy rolled his eyes.

"Master Cutthroat, I hope you have copies of all missives sent to me? I'll want to read them later. But first the reason we are here. The Chief Warlock in his infinite wisdom finally decided to unseal my parent's will. I want it compared with the copy here, to ensure that someone had not changed it to protect me."

At that Dumbledore blanched. He just could not do good by the boy! Everything he did tend to go awry horribly.

"It shall be done so Heir Potter. You should know that as per your parent's wish ever since you reached eleven you've been the Heir of House Potter despite the fact you did not come to claim your ring."

"Ah. I would want to do so among other things."

"Furthermore, as it now I believe that you was not the one to intentionally slight us, the penalties for those actions and the illegal interference with Gringotts official correspondence will fall upon the Chief Warlock."

Cutthroat beamed at the headmaster who gulped. It was never healthy when a goblin was this cheerful. It usually meant that a wizard was about to have a very bad day.

When Dumbledore tried to distract the goblin by giving him the Potter's will, Cutthroat sneered.

"Will be using our copy. It is not tampered with for sure."

They waited in silence for couple of minutes until a young looking goblin ( he had smooth skin and no visible scars) wearing a smart, black suit entered the room carrying a sealed cylinder made of silver colored metal. It had various runes inscribed on its surface. They were glowing softly. The few of the runes Harry could decipher were protective in nature - making the case unbreakable, protecting it from unauthorized access and tampering. What one would expect of the protections of such a document. Besides, those were only the obvious ones.

The account manager retrieved the cylinder from the younger goblin, who bowed and departed, leaving them to continue their business. Cuttroat placed his palm on the cap of the container and started chanting quietly in a language that was unfamiliar to both Harry and Dumbledore. It was not what they knew as the common goblin tongue.

The runic array protecting the will blazed with soft blue light and the protections slowly went into stand by mode. With a quiet "click" the container opened. The account manager carefully retrieved a thick, neatly folded parchment from within and placed the now empty cylinder on the table. Cuttroat muttered another incantation and used his thumb to break the crimson wax seal that was proudly adoring the parchment. All three beings in the room could feel a soft discharge of magic when the goblin finally opened the will.

The account manager gave the document to Harry who wasted no time scanning the relevant parts. When you strip the necessary legal jargon it was a surprisingly clearly written document which left no place for doubting what his parents wanted done. He briefly looked through the part which left some of his family's liquid assets to various friends – like Remus, who received fifty thousand galleons and a cottage in Scotland, Peter to receive another fifty thousand and various smaller sums and/or items given to his parents friends. As expected the bulk of the Potter estate was about to come to him, though he won't be able to access most of it until he became of age in few years.

What really interested him was the section which was outlining where one Harry James Potter was about to be placed if the worst happened and his parents were murdered. That list contained some interesting surprises.

Number one. Sirius Orion Black, his godfather. That came as a shock to the young wizard. He did not know that he had a godfather. Considering that he had not heard the name Black mentioned at Hogwarts, Harry immediately came to few possible reasons why he was not raised by the man. Thanks to Riddle's memories he now knew that the Black's were a dark family with a lot of their members as potential recruits. However the name of his godfather did not ring any bells and what is more important it not led to any flashbacks. Perhaps once he had seen a picture of the man... 'But I digress. For all I know he did not survive the war. Or he listened to Dumbledore and kept away for some reason.'

"Sirius Black. Who is he?"

The headmaster winced. That was a dangerous thing to discus, especially when they were not alone. But he had to say something. He could not protect Harry from the truth any longer. Albus looked at the goblin who had something resembling an amused smile on his face. It was hard to tell thanks to all those sharp teeth. The account manager would be more than eager to revel in the tale how Black had betrayed Lilly and James.

"He was once a friend of your parents. When they went into hiding, he became their secret keeper. However that proved to be a mistake. He betrayed your family and led Voldemort to Godric's Hollow. Later he murdered another friend of your parents and thirteen muggles before being apprehended and sent to Azkaban."

Harry listened at the explanation with a raised eyebrow. If that story was true he'd love to have a long personal "chat" with the man. However, in the will Black was mentioned as his godfather. That position in the wizarding world usually came with a set of magical vows, which if taken by Sirius... Then, while the man would have been able to carry on with the murder of the muggles and that other friend, Peter, he would been unable to betray Harry to Riddle.

Potter glanced at the will. Peter was to receive the same sum as Sirius. That told him that the will was made before they went into hiding and decided on this whole secret keeper stuff.

"Was the "friend" who Sirius Black killed off a certain Peter Pettigrew?"

Dumbledore lowered his gaze and nodded. Despite all the nasty memories that Harry now had thanks to that maniac Riddle, the headmaster wanted to spare him the details of that nasty business.

"When practical I would want to meet Black and ask why that bastard betrayed my parents. On the other hand was he really the secret keeper? Is this another one of those 'everyone knows' things, just as the way I was supposedly raised?" Hary frowned. He knew that a lot of Death Eaters like Malfoy slipped away from receiving justice claiming Imperio defense. Sirius as the scion of the Black family, should have been able to get away by that logic. Or if he wasn't the secret keeper, he might have been railroaded thanks to lavish donations from certain people.

Harry rubbed his temples. There was too much he didn't know about not only the curent political situation but what it was when the war officialy ended more than a decade ago. That was something he had to fix, soonish.

Dumbledore slumped in his chair. When Harry put it that way... He knew that some Dead Eaters escaped justice but was content to leave sleeping dogs lie as the muggles said. The war had hurt Magical Britain too bad and a spell of vengeful trials and pogroms wasn't what was needed at the time. As far as Sirius went, Albus believed the man was guilty. After all he knew him to be the secret keeper. On the other hand, Sirius was the obvious choice, the targed everyone would go after. The Potters might have switched keepers without telling anyone. A posibility that hadn't occured him at the time. Besides, if he had to be fair to himself, the fact that Black was behind bars unable to meddle in what Albus was planing was a bonus which might have helped him to decide not to interfere with the ministry's handling of the process. Despite being guilty for the death of two of Dumbledore's closest friends, Black's trial simply wasn't on Albu's radar as the muggles said. He had been too busy insuring Harry's safety at the time by tying up all the wards he could with the blood protection that Lily had left her son. By the time he was reasonably sure that Harry would be safe from Dead Eaters at his Aunt's home, Sirius was already in prison and Albus had other issues to deal with. Placing the county on the route of recovery after the war had been a herculean task, one that was still a work in progress.

"It is a possibility. However it doesn't really matter. Sirius killed Peter and all those muggles. Even if he did not betray your parents, he still will be in Azkaban for mass murder, breach of the statutes of secrecy and of course the killing of Pettigrew, the one man who could have cleared his name. To make things worse, the current minister, Cornelius Fudge won't hear about new evidence. I know the man – he will disregard anything that could show the ministry and him by extension in less than positive light. Not to mention that Lucius and his friends will do their best to block any attempts for new evidence to be brought to light. Evidence which we do not have."

Unfortunately what Dumbledore said was sounded genuine. Harry didn't know the truth about Sirius. Even worse, after some research in the last few week or so, Harry had found that in the last half a decade or so, Albus had left things slide on the political homefront and in fact had much less real power than most people believed, considering all the positions he held.

Which was Dumbledore's own fault. The Dead Eaters that escaped justice were busy after the war ended, spending copious amounts of money to buy themsleves influence withing the ministry and Wizengamot. Not to mention that they undoubtedly used blackmail and outright threats to get their way. Something that was highlighted by the fact that apparently Lucius Malfoy was a very good friend of the minister. If Harry remembered correctly, Narcisca, the man's wife was once a Black, which meant that her son – that Ponce Draco was probably one of the people with best claim for the Black fortune and seat in the Wizengamot. If Sirius was not a traitor, then the remaining followers of the Dark Lord would do their best to keep him powerless and in prison.

It was a bloody mess!

Harry drew on the occlumency training he had gained to calm down his rising temper. He would have to find a way to meet with Sirius and find the truth. For now dragging the information from what was left of Voldemort's inner circle (provided they knew) was out of the question. While he had the raw knowledge to hold his own against the best that Riddle once had, Harry's body and magic were yet not up to the task of all out combat – something that he'll need when he went after Riddle's remaining followers. After all he had no intention of letting the bastards be. He had to deal with the majority of the free Dead munchers before their "Lord" was returned into a body. The alternative was that the dark wanker would gain a largely intact army the moment he was back - something Harry could not permit. 'Note to self – find the truth about Black and free him if innocent as a new side project. It would be interesting to see what his trial transcript reads like.'

The young wizard continued reading the list of possible guardians. Frank and Alice Longbottom. Nevile's parents who were tortured into insanity by Dead Eaters. That still left his friend grandmother but if the few things his friend had let slip were any indication Harry did not regret not being raised by that particular lady. Leaving, what was his name, uncle Angie or something, get away with throwing Nevile out of a damn window to check if he was a squib? He wanted no part of that madhouse.

Numbers three, four and five were very interesting. Amelia Bones. 'Well, that is unexpected but with so many pros and cons that it makes my head spin. What better protection that having the director of DMLE as your guardian?! Besides she'd be able to help him find the truth about Black and possibly finding a way to send what remained of Voldie's followers in jail. On the other hand, with her looking over his shoulder, Harry would have to be very careful if he decided to dispose of the bastards in less than a legal way. Decision, decisions. Oh, yeah. With the help of madam Bones, he should be safely out of under Dumbledore's thumb. That was great plus!

Next on the list was professor Filtwic. The half-goblin was not only a great teacher but Harry really liked him. Not to mention that he was a world class dueling master besides being one of the best charms masters in the country. Being raised by him would have been brilliant.

And number five – Minerva McGongall. He was unable to make up his mind right away as far as she was concerned. While she had ignored his and his friends concerns first and second year which was not exactly endearing her to him, his head of house was carrying too many hats at once. Teacher, deputy headmistress ( and if he did not miss his mark, she had to deal with most of the paperwork necessary for the running of the school) not to mention dealing with the gryffindors, the twins and their antics in particular. She was incredible at transfiguration, no doubt there. In skill she could give a run for their money to both Dumbledore and Voldemort. What she lacked in order to truly hold her own against of the likes of those two was raw power. In the end he knew that he would have been much better being raised by her instead by those bastards the Dursleys.

The sixth item on the list made him smile in relief. A small part of him had always wondered if his parents were willing to leave him in the hell that his home was. What he read in the will dispelled that notion. It was plainly written for all to see that under no circumstances he was to be sent to leave with his mother's sister, who loathed magic.

"Account manager Cuttroat, I'll want this will executed as soon as possible." said Harry.

He looked at the headmaster coolly.

"Professor, the will clearly shows who my parents wanted me to be placed with if the worst happened. I would like to be placed for the summer with a person on this list. Before you start quoting safety concerns, one of the persons stipulated by my parents as possible guardians will be more than able to insure my safety during the summer."

Harry showed that part of the will for Albus to see. The elder wizard winced. Amelia Bones. He had have Morgana's own time in persuading the formidable witch that her search for more information about Harry was dangerous about his safety before he started attending Hogwarts and that after-wards if the boy wanted to speak with her he could contact her or her niece. None of that happened of course considering that until recently Harry had no idea that the director of DMLE was a close friend to his parents. The fact that Harry had not given the light of day to Susan Bones, Amelia's niece thanks to his ignorance sure helped. But now that particular chicken was about to come home to roost. Dumbledore was well aware that he was on a very shaky ground with the boy who was even now watching his reactions. While Albus believed that for the greater good, Harry must be raised under his influence, the headmaster was painfully aware that any more overt meddling in the near future could have disastrous consequences. The last thing he wanted was for his actions to be what drives Harry into darkness. The headmaster felt trapped.

Harry gave the old man a thin smile. He was very interested in Dumbledore's reaction and hoped that the headmaster won't do something foolish. This was the moment Harry was waiting for. It was the main objective of this meeting – a test for the Professor. He hoped that Dumbledore would be reasonable and stop trying to control his every action. If the sense he had gotten from the man during their long discussion in the headmaster's office was correct, then the man was not evil or power-hungry. However, Albus was an old man, who was accustomed into getting things his way and was a kind of a control freak. The question was if he would be able to let Harry go his own way or try to control him for the so called "greater good", in which case the situation will become ugly. Harry hoped that his contingency plans were up to the task. After all Potter had not illusions that he had any chance of overpowering Dumbledore if the old wizard decided to obliviate him or do something equally dumb. He watched the old wizard who was trying to reach a decision.

****AN:Please review!****


	4. Chapter 4 Part 1

****Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to J. K. Rowling and the various publishers. This story is written with no commercial aims. I do not make any money from it.****

**$Parseltongue$**

**Chapter 4: Changes**

**Part 1 **

**=ADP=**

* * *

**Gringotts**

**London**

Dumbledore carefully watched the bespectacled boy. He had a decision to make yet was afraid to do so. The last time he had failed spectacularly, the whole country and too many people beyond it paid the ultimate price. He knew it was his fault. Albus had the power to stop Tom. At least he did in the beginning, when the Dark Lord was starting his campaign of terror. But ever since that night in 1946, when he nearly killed his one-time lover, Grindelwald, in a fit of rage, Dumbledore just could not bear the thought of having someone's blood on his hands. He could not kill or order his followers to use lethal means. The very thought terrified him to the core because of that night so many years ago – he recalled that he had nearly snapped and became what he despised. And he knew that if he became Dark, with all his power and knowledge, there would be no one able to stop him.

So for decades Dumbledore was in a trap of his own making. But now… ah, now… Tom was coming back. In few years if the Wizarding world was lucky, earlier if not. But this child, who was looking at Albus with steel in his young green eyes, was something else. A complication he could not have foreseen. The greatest wizard of his generation found himself backed into a corner.

No matter how much Dumbledore wanted to deny it this young student, who was waiting for Albus to make up his mind, was no longer the innocent boy he had tried to protect... and failed in the most spectacular fashion possible. It was not the abuse suffered by Harry from his relatives, which in itself was a screw-up of epic proportion and was squarely on the headmaster's shoulders. Oh, no. His failure was much worse. He had not acted decisively enough and as a result a couple of students and that buffoon Lockhart had to go into the Chamber of secrets. At that thought he barely kept himself from cursing aloud the minister and his meddlesome ways. If it was not for the threat Fudge had made prior to the year starting to appoint one of his cronies as DADA teacher if the headmaster failed to provide one, Lockhart would not have been there to begin with.

That and the stunt pulled by Malfoy at the most inconvenient of times led to Harry finding the Chamber of Secrets, something Dumbledore had been unable to do so. And the rest as they say is history. Now Harry had the memories of a young Tom Riddle, and that Albus would forever regret. The child had more than enough on his plate without that burden.

For the first time in decades the elderly wizard truly looked all his years. Harry, his physical age notwithstanding, was no longer either a child or innocent, was he? The way Harry acted... well, it was fitting for someone with experience far from his apparent age.

A part of the headmaster knew that the events in that Merlin-forsaken chamber had changed not only Harry but the world. He just did not want to admit it to himself. His first, knee-jerk reaction was to obliviate Harry from all those new memories, including those of the abuse from the Dursleys, may Morgana take their wretched souls! Yet something stayed his wand hand when he spoke with Harry in his office. The same thing stopping him right now when he could tell that the young man wanted to get as far as possible from his influence, something which if she was willing to take Harry as a ward, Madam Bones would be able to ensure.

It all came back to three facts. The prophecy. With this new twist, Albus was no longer sure if love was the power the Dark Lord knows not. The new memories Harry got could qualify but in that case only love may be able to steer him away from the way which Tom ultimately choose.

Second was that Albus started thinking about his actions in the past few decades and he did not like what he saw. He had made many terrible mistakes where the Potters were concerned.

Third was that if he obliviated Harry and the boy ever remembered, that single action would ensure that the Potter would take a darker path even if it is only to protect himself from further assaults of that kind.

On the other hand, young Harry becoming a ward of Madam Bones could have its benefits. With Amelia being the Director of the DMLE, she would undoubtedly do her best to instil a healthy respect of the law in the boy. That would show an immediate benefit if the right laws, promoting rehabilitation of the Death Eaters were placed into effect. Yes such an outcome could be the best given the circumstances. It would certainly make the period of healing after Harry defeats Voldemort go much more smoothly. After all everyone deserved a second chance! Or at least most people… The Dursleys not so much.

He just needed to train the boy right and keep him in the light. With Harry familiar with Tom's past that could be expedited...

Dumbledore had little idea what consequences his decisions would have in the fullness of time. If he did perhaps the headmaster would have acted radically different on that day.

**=ADP=**

* * *

Harry was examining the headmaster warily. He was taut, alert like a snake ready to attack at the slightest provocation. He had the start of a devastating spell chain on his lips and his hands were ready to snap up and cast wandlessly. That was his minuscule advantage over Dumbledore. Riddle was terrible at wandless magic until he had found the time to practice with it after his rise to power started. Harry had trained only one thing in the Room of requirements after his first "spar" against the animated dummies. It was a desperate, last ditch option which he would not have considered if it was not Dumbledore himself who was the threat. Odds were that the chain of dark spells would drain him almost to the point of death but if he executed it correctly and fast enough, Harry had a chance to incapacitate the headmaster. That was the boy's trump card in case Dumbledore decided that his new memories were too dangerous to keep or that he simply could not allow The Boy-Who-Lived to slip from his grasp.

So Harry waited to spring an attack that could very well be his last no matter what happened to the old man.

To his surprise, the headmaster slumped back in his chair a for once looked his age.

"You are correct, my boy. I messed up quite a bit." Albus said with a sad smile on his face. "Perhaps you are right. I've caused you enough harm despite my best intentions. Let's see what Madam Bones thinks about this," the Headmaster said and pointed at the Will.

"That would be for the best," muttered Harry who was still ready for combat.

What happened next brought Harry immense relief as the goblins took Dumbledore to the nearest floo from where he called Madam Bones.

**=ADP=**

* * *

**Small Vila near the suburbs of Birmingham**

**United Kingdom**

Ever since the end of the war it was rare for the Director of the DMLE to be called out to see a crime scene. Yet here she was – out in the cold English weather. Only thanks to a warming charm she was not feeling the frostbite of the cold air. The temperature was rather cool, especially for the season.

Madam Bones was flanked by a pair of Aurors, John Dawlish and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who were acting as her escort that day, when she arrived at the crime scene. She had been expecting a lot of things, none of which were in any way good. However, what or rather who was presented to her by the hit wizards who had answered a signal for a magic use against muggles was something that was surprising. And not in a good way either.

Her people had done things by the book and subdued the perpetrator who they found terrorizing a muggle elderly couple. The obliviators were already done with the husband and wife and after a few repairing spells, there were few traces that something unusual had happened at the house. That was the good news. The bad news was the identity of the perpetrator who had been caught red handed. That was one Selena Fargrove who was Cornelius Fudge's cousin. She was drunk to boot and Amelia wondered how in Merlin's name the girl was still conscious, much less able to cast magic!

On the surface it was clear cut case – as Ms. Fargrove had a clean record until now, and considering she was not in her right mind she would most likely get away with only a hefty fine and mandatory sessions with a mind healer to assist her if she had alcohol problems and this was not a one-time freak accident. While that was not something Amelia would usually buy as an excuse, she'd been an Auror long enough to know that sometimes this did happen. Not every crime was committed by hardened and repeat offenders after all. People did mistakes which they regretted quite often.

Especially if they had drunk most of a bottle of firewisky beforehand.

Amelia's problem was Fudge. Who would undoubtedly meddle and make a mess of things. Ironically enough the case could be dealt with quietly by going through the proper channels without reaching the media if the Minister just left her to do her job without interference. Knowing him however, that was unlikely. It was a good thing that she had stocked up on headache relief potions in her office in the beginning of the week.

**=ADP=**

* * *

**Amelia Bones****'**** Office**

**Ministry of Magic**

Later after the preliminary investigation was complete it was clear that it was an open and shut case. The reason for the furor was that Ms. Fargrove's father, in typical pureblood fashion had taken a mistress and was found out by his wife. That was the previous evening. After the blowup, which happened in front of their children – both grown and those underage, Mr. Fargrove left the house for the foreseeable future. This fortunately did not create any additional work for the DMLE. However, Selena decided to try drowning her memories of her parent's breakup with firewhiskey. Everything else was in the report Amelia had delivered to the fuming Minister of Magic. After he had (predictably) blustered and threatened to cut down her budget if the charges did not go away, of which she reminded him that she could always dedicate her resources to looking over his work history, he had left to do whatever he was doing on a daily basis instead of his job.

It was only noon and Amelia felt a pounding headache developing. With a sigh she retrieved a full headache relief potion bottle from her desk and drank it fast. It was almost fast enough not to feel its foul taste. At least the headache started subsiding within seconds.

That's when her life suddenly became much more complicated. The charms protecting the floo in her office from unauthorized access warned her that someone wanted to speak with her. The director hoped it was something important. She had to plan how to run her department after Fudge implemented the cuts with which he threatened her. She just could not allow herself to sweep the case under the rug no matter what the offense was. Doing it once would compromise her entire department even more that it was with the constant budget cuts after the war's end.

Receiving an order, carefully concealed as a request, by the Chief Warlock to meet him at Gringotts as soon as possible (meaning: right now) was not what she wanted or needed after she had to deal with Fudge. But pissing off the two most powerful men in the ministry on the same day was not conductive for keeping her department running or even keeping her post, so she gritted her teeth and after informing Shacklebolt where she was going she grabbed her cloak and went through the floo.

She met Dumbledore in a small, heavily guarded room from where they were led to a conference room. There she met an old goblin and a young boy with messy black hair and a distinctive scar. The Boy-Who-Lived himself!

What followed sent her head for a spin. Amelia was glad that she drank the bloody potion when she did. The pride she felt when she learned that her late friends James and Lily Potter had her on the short list of people to raise their son if the worst happened was overshadowed by the pure hatred she felt right now towards the most powerful wizard in the world. For once in his life Dumbledore had come clean. And she loathed the man who until few minutes ago she had respected just as most of the Wizarding world did.

"If that is what you wish Mr. Potter, I would be honored to become your guardian until you reach your majority," she said at last.

**=ADP=**

* * *

Harry nodded at the witch and gave her a small smile.

What followed were a few hours of filling the paperwork needed for Harry's change of guardian. He also outlined what had happened to him while being "raised" by his aunt and uncle. He had a devil's own time in persuading madam Bones not to prosecute them in the wizarding world. Eventually she reluctantly agreed but despite that wanted him to come to the DMLE after the school year was over and give her an official statement.

Reading between the lines Harry had to suppress a smile hearing that. He was ready to bet a major part of his family's fortunes on the belief that Amelia wanted the statement in order to have some kind of leverage over Dumbledore in case the headmaster decided to meddle again. After all, Albus had been parroting for years that Harry was safe and sound where he had him hidden. Revealing that for the lie it was would seriously hurt the Chief Warlock's credibility. However as things stood, that was not a desirable outcome. Not when Dumbledore was finally showing himself as a possible ally.

Despite all that, Harry had no intention of letting the old man get away with all his scheming without a slap on the wrist. One of the first things he would discuss with Madam Bones after the school was over was the whole basilisk fiasco. Harry did not believe for a moment that she would be pleased to learn about it weeks after it was all over. From a student no less.

While they were dealing with the paperwork, Harry and his new guardian exchanged only a few words consisting mainly of small talk. Neither of them was keen of discussing something important in front of the headmaster and the goblins. A wizard could trust the short cutthroats with money issues... within reason. Anything else was simply asking for trouble unless you were one of the very few magicals to be ever granted a status of goblin friend. Needless to say such people were extremely rare. The last such individual had died more than three hundred years ago.

When finished, all three magical humans barely held their tempers in check. The exercise of changing guardians turned out to be a long and tedious venture. Harry was staring at the completed paperwork – the stack of parchment was higher than him. And that was when the goblins were actually cooperating. He shuddered to think what would happen if the little monsters were indifferent or, Merlin protect them all, actively dragging their feet and sending all possible red tape the wizards way.

Even Dumbledore had lost his well-known eye twinkle and was giving dirty looks to the goblins.

"That's finally done," groaned the old man. He was too old to deal with the bloody goblins!

"Harry, I need to return to my office. Please give my best to Susan. I'll meet you two in a few days at Kings Cross station."

"That I will, Madam Bones. It was great to meet you."

**=ADP=**

* * *

Harry and Dumbledore flooed to the Headmaster's office and to the boy's surprise the old man did not try to manipulate him further or to pry for information about Riddle. Albus just bid him a good evening and sent him to get some rest before dinner.

Instead, Harry made his way to the Room of Requirements where he got a bit of training (venting his frustration after dealing with the goblins for hours) followed by a quick shower. Afterward he had to deflect multiple questions about where he was the whole afternoon. He told his friends and various other people who had decided to make his life their business most of the truth – that he had to deal with few issues concerning the Potter accounts. He did not mention anything about his new guardian. First – it was not their business with the notable exception of Hermione and possibly Neville or even Ron. Besides, the first one who he should tell was Susan. It would be a bad form to do otherwise. He wondered what was their relationship was right now? Acquaintances? Possibly friends? Or should he consider her a sister of sorts?

Neither his time with the Dursleys or the memories of Riddle had prepared him how to deal with a normal family.


End file.
